


An Immodest Proposal

by Grachelle



Series: Clawen One-Shots [2]
Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Marriage Proposal, Really just a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 22:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4455398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grachelle/pseuds/Grachelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why is Owen wearing a wedding ring? More importantly, why is Claire not entirely opposed to it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Immodest Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s that oneshot I was talking about! The inspiration for this came from a play I was in this weekend, where a very similar conversation took place. It was just something that popped into my head and wouldn’t go away until I wrote it down! Enjoy! :)

Claire Dearing was a woman who liked getting things done. She was never one for dawdling around, waiting for her wants and wishes to come true or for someone to hand them to her on a silver platter. No, she much preferred taking action. If she wanted something, it was done quickly and thoroughly, and if she set her mind to something, then damn it, it would happen if it was the last thing she did. She never really cared what others thought, either; usually, she was able to coerce them into actually helping with whatever she needed, even if they didn’t whole-heartedly agree. So what if it ruffled some feathers? **  
**

This certain characteristic had sparked an idea within Claire one evening as she sat on the couch in her Saint Louis apartment—Well, her apartment that she had been _sharing_  with Owen Grady for the past three years—flipping through the television channels absently with a glass of white wine in hand. She had barely acknowledged Owen as he walked into the room, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before practically collapsing onto the seat beside her. She felt his calloused hands pull her legs into his lap in an effort to close some of the space between them.

Her, “How was work?” was only met with half-hearted grunt as he laid his head against the back of the sofa.

Something in in the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was small, shiny, and gold. And it was wrapped around his left ring finger.

She wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t put his hand on her knee.

She almost dropped her glass in surprise, tightening her hold as she felt the wine slip ever so slightly from her hands. “Um, Owen?”

“Yeah?” He tore his gaze away from the television for a fraction of a second, not seeing what she was so spooked by.

“What is _that?”_

“What is what—Oh,  _shit.”_  He froze, immediately yanking the offending hand from her knee and shoving it into his pocket. Out of sight, out of mind right?

That was not the case. It was certainly _not_  out of mind. Claire quirked a delicate brow at him, incredulous at how he thought that hiding the damn thing would work.

No, Owen and Claire were  _not_  married. Yes, it had been addressed in the past, but it was something neither of them really saw in the foreseeable future. They had both agreed that it wasn’t necessary or important for either of them; the only difference at this point would have been that their union would be written on paper, and that itself would just make a potential split all the more difficult. And the truth was, they didn’t need it to be  _that_  official; they were both perfectly content with what they had, their commitment to each other already at practically the same level to that of a newlywed couple.

In all honesty, marriage just wasn’t for them.

So you could imagine Claire’s surprise at seeing a golden wedding band on the finger of a supposed marriage skeptic.

“It’s nothin’. Don’t worry about it, babe,” Owen said, taking the remote from her hands as a means for distraction.

Claire snatched the remote back, clicking the television off. “It’s not _‘nothin’,”_  She said, mocking his accent. The blank expression etched across his face almost made her want to slap it right off of him. “Why are you wearing that…  _thing?”_  She couldn’t bring herself to say what it actually was, as if speaking it out loud would cause it to actually happen. She certainly didn’t want that, right?

_Right?_

Owen casually pulled the hand out of his pocket, nonchalantly examining the golden ring as if he had only just noticed it. He shrugged, twisting said ring in feigned innocence. “Oh, it’s just somethin’ I wear,” he deadpanned. “You know, keeps the ladies at bay.” He had seemed to calm down now, the initial fear leaving him as he answered her. He played with the ring on his finger, a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Lets ‘em know I’m already taken. Saves me a lot of time.”

_Oh, he is such a liar._

“Plus, it’s not like we aren’t practically  _there_  anyway,” He said quietly, still not looking up from the band. “It’s not a big deal.”

It most certainly was a big deal. In all honesty, Claire wasn’t exactly sure how she felt seeing that damn thing on his finger. On one end, it was terrifying, and slightly infuriating; they had talked about this. The fact that he was now contradicting almost everything he had said on such an important matter was baffling. There was also the question of where the hell he got that thing, or what he even spent on it. She almost didn’t want to know.

But along with her irritation came an unidentifiable, though not entirely unpleasant, fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

For once, Claire decided that this wasn’t something she wanted to push right at the moment. She was positive that questioning him further would only spark another argument between them, and to be frank, she did not have the energy for it.

Almost an entire week had gone by since the discovery. A week of a tiny, nagging idea in the back of Claire’s mind just waiting to be realized. She hadn’t seen the offending piece of jewelry in those entire seven days, though she guessed Owen still wore it when she wasn’t around. Really, the whole situation had forced Claire to actually think, really  _think,_  about their relationship and what it meant to them. While they had talked about marriage in the past, they had also changed both as individuals and a couple in the time between then and now. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to bring the idea up again.

It wasn’t until an evening out that she saw the golden band again. She wasn’t sure if he had done it on purpose this time or if he honestly forgot that he was wearing it. Her eyes immediately flew to the shiny trinket, surprised at herself for not immediately panicking as she had the first time seeing the ring.

Owen had told her why he wore the ring, or what she assumed was only part of the reason he wore it. She eyed the band carefully, the inner turmoil of how she felt about the damn thing stirring within her. Perhaps, she thought, she was reading too much into this. Maybe he really was only wearing it to show other women that he was “off the market.” But there was that part of Claire that had come to know Owen in their years together, enough to know that he didn’t (always) just do insane things for the fun of it.

The damn thing was so distracting, she had barely registered that Owen had been talking until he said her name. “Claire?” he asked, his voice tinted in humor at her contemplative expression. “You in there?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” she replied, shaking her head slightly as if to jarr herself from her thoughts. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Just us.”

Owen sat forward in his chair, his interest piqued. This could either be very good or very, very  _not good._  “What about us?” He asked, leaning in to the woman across from him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Claire paused, unconsciously biting her lip. His thumb began tracing distracting circles on her skin. She looked down at their intertwined hands, finding herself only able to focus on the golden band. The longer she was around Owen and his wedding ring, the longer she thought about what that certain domestic life would be like. Again, it wasn’t like they needed the confirmation of a document to show their commitment for one another. They had already done that. “Stick together, for survival,” he had said. That was enough. Then again, if they were already basically _there_ , then why not just get it over with? It couldn’t be so horrible. “First, a question,” She said, briefly glancing between his ring finger and his own eyes.

“Alright… Shoot,” he said cautiously before bringing his water glass to his mouth.

She was going to ask once again why he was wearing that ring, but something stopped her; some unknown force prevented the question from leaving her lips.

A thought suddenly entered her mind; a strange, but not entirely unwelcome, thought; Being married to Owen Grady would not be so terrible. Not at all. Nothing would really change, so what was the harm in doing it? She loved him, and he loved her; so what was stopping them? They already argued like a real married couple, so what was one more step? Really, if he had asked her right then, at that moment, she probably would have said yes. No, scratch that. She would  _definitely_  have said yes.

But Claire was not about to wait for him to make the first move. As it was said before, if Claire wanted something done, then  _damn it_ , it was  _going_  to happen.

They had never really been a traditional couple; the only thing that had brought them together after years of  ~~sexual tension~~  hatred for each other was nearly being eaten by a Frankenstein dinosaur created by the mad scientists at Jurassic World. They had shared a bed long before they even became lovers, much less friends. In fact, they never even established that they were official with any labels; they just  _were._

So, what about this had to be in any way traditional?

A smile stretched across Claire’s face, knowing that what she was about to ask would certainly incite a reaction. “I’m going to ask… Owen Grady, will you marry me?”

Owen nearly choked on his water, bracing one hand against the table while the other clutched his chest. He let out a series of violent coughs, the woman across from him waiting patiently for him to finish his fit. “What?!” He finally croaked out, clearing his throat. She had asked it in such a business-like tone, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d heard correctly.

“You heard me.” Claire was secretly reveling in the fact that for once, she had been the one to catch him off-guard. He was the flustered one. It had always been the other way around; something he’d say would make her face turn red and her ability to form comprehensible sentences to vanish.

“Jesus, Claire!” Owen coughed again. “Are you serious?” His eyes widened at the nod of her head. “Don’t you leave  _anythin’_ for the man to say?”

“He can say ‘yes.’”

Owen cracked a smile at that, though his surprised expression still held firmly on his face. “You’re serious!” He eyed her carefully, as if to see if she were truly serious about her question. He chuckled, reaching over once again to take her hand in his. “Well, I might as well,” he said with a shake of his head. “Chances are you wouldn’t take ‘no,’ for an answer anyway.”

Claire’s lips stretched across her face into a thin smile, the one Owen had found so endearing.

His genuinely happy smile morphed into a sly smirk. “Well, Claire Dearing,” he drawled, his voice lowering as his eyes darkened. “Aren’t you going to throw me down and kiss me?”

* * *

There was a ring on her own finger not two days later.


End file.
